


a memory of you

by laikaspeaks



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laikaspeaks/pseuds/laikaspeaks
Summary: Ursula gets lost in a memory.





	a memory of you

The library summoned up a bittersweet ache for Chariot. It wrapped her up in familiar smells: dry old paper, the clean wax of candles cut with bitter ink, and under that things she couldn’t remember the names of and didn’t want to know. Croix would know.

Was it weird that even now that thought popped up at the oddest times? _Croix would know._ It was so much worse here, in this school where everything began.

Lately whenever she was shelving books a strange feeling crept up. She was almost certain that if she wasn't careful she would round a corner into another time. She would find a young Croix hunched over her usual corner table with towers of books on either side. Croix would peer blearily up at Chariot with dark circles under her eyes and a mug of steaming coffee at her elbow.

Chariot would _see_ recognition breaking through the sleep deprivation, that subtle crinkle at the corners of her eyes and the beginnings of a narrow smile. Croix would put a shushing finger to her own lips and pull a bag of snacks out of her backpack for them to share. No matter how often she got scolded about bringing food into the library she wasn’t deterred. Once she looked the librarian in the eye and poured a mug of coffee over an entire stack of books, then vanished the spill with a twitch of her wand. She got detention, but librarian didn’t bother her again. After that she lost all sense of restraint - sometimes Chariot caught her warming cup noodles with her wand, a priceless book propped on her knees. 

But no matter what the situation she would ask about the spells Chariot learned that day, quietly, intently curious in that way only she could manage. Sometimes she’d pluck her wand from where she was using it as a bookmark and mend a ripped hem or a scraped knee. “What am I going to do with you?” She would say, eyes laughing. There was no doubt that she was as arrogant as she was brilliant, and had the social ability of a grumpy dragon. But Croix was kind too, and the fondness she reserved just for Chariot made her heart do backflips.

That arrogance, that _raw ambition_  would be their downfall in the end. 

That old wound was where the illusion would break. All that was left was the same table, dark and empty. Memory was preserved here like a pressed flower, beautiful but not at all a full reflection of their past. It was less a place than it was a time, a feeling. When she was done shelving Ursula would sigh gratefully and slip back into the present, without giving the table a second glance.

There was no going back.

**Author's Note:**

> Not really meant to be a longer work, it's just an image that hit me hard.


End file.
